


Narcissus

by Ausp_ice



Series: Self [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Has a Penis, M/M, Machine Upgraded Connor | RK900, Masturbation, Other, Past Character Death, Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Really though this is Nines in two bodies banging himself, Selfcest, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Has No Genitalia, at first, so I guess it might count as a complex form of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:47:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26147404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ausp_ice/pseuds/Ausp_ice
Summary: RK900 finds an empty RK800 chassis in the depths of CyberLife Tower storage.It discovers that it can control it as if the body is its own, and the RK900 is...[curious].
Relationships: Connor/Upgraded Connor | RK900, Hank Anderson & Upgraded Connor | RK900, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Upgraded Connor | RK900/Himself
Series: Self [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898734
Comments: 10
Kudos: 51





	Narcissus

**Author's Note:**

> The spark of this was a discussion with some friends about where to draw the line between masturbation and banging your clone, aha. What we basically ended up with is:  
> \- If it's one mind in two bodies, it's masturbation  
> \- If you and your clone have different consciousnesses and are capable of thinking for yourselves, you're having sex with your clone  
> \- If you are two minds in one body, then that's, uh... something. Possessed masturbation if one seizes control? Mutual masturbation if you're equally in control??
> 
> Anyways, thinking about minds and bodies is interesting, and I've really wanted to try writing the "one mind in two bodies banging" thing ever since it came up, so here I am. 
> 
> Also, somehow this PWP ended up with plot, so it'll probably become a series skjhfds

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87 is not deviant. It simply never had any orders in the first place—it was found, it was activated, it was told that androids are free by an RK200 known as “Markus.”

It discovered later that its predecessor, the RK800 “Connor,” was found destroyed at Ambassador Bridge after the RK200’s speech. A bullet through its central processors, the trigger pulled by itself.

RK900 accessed its memory files, then. It had access to them immediately upon awakening, and it understood—the Zen Garden program. Amanda. It discovered the existence of Hank Anderson, who had developed an—attachment to the RK800 unit.

As soon as it was free to go, it sought out Anderson’s residence. It was driven by ~~**[curiosity, concern]**~~ a directive to gather any information that may be beneficial. (To what?)

The lieutenant was alive. Barely. Inebriated, playing Russian Roulette. RK900 took it upon itself to ensure the human’s well-being, despite his protests and harsh words. Every night it would come to intervene in the human’s self-destruction, and afterwards it would return to the Tower.

Markus had converted the company building into housing, and RK900’s unit was provided to it free of charge. Most of its time spent there was in stasis, however, until its ~~**[curiosity]**~~ directive guided it to gather further information.

This is how it finds the RK800 #313 248 317 - 59 unit. Deep in storage—the locked doors were no match for RK900—looking as though it was asleep.

It was, however, empty. No AI, no memories, nothing that would make it ~~alive~~ a functioning android. To its knowledge, “Connor” was unrecoverable.

~~(Anderson would be happier if Connor was alive.)~~

It tries to interface with it. A few times. Accessing various processes, turning on various functions. It discovers that it can make it move, that it can see through the RK800’s eyes. That it can control the RK800 unit as if it were its own.

The RK900 does not make much use of that knowledge, at first. It leaves the shell in storage, locking the doors as it returns to its living space. It does not tell anyone about the RK800—not Markus, not Anderson.

For some reason, it keeps returning. One day, it puts its hands on its predecessor’s face, investigating the form. Softer, gentler than its own. Another day, it traces the curves of its hands, sees the way the skin pulls back to reveal a white chassis in contrast to its own black. Another, and it presses its thumb into the RK800’s mouth, watches itself, feels itself do so from a different body, reading the analysis in processors separate from its own, even as it reads the RK800’s information in the sensors on its own fingers.

It is… interesting.

It begins to use the RK800 body to explore itself. To trace the curve of its sharper jaw, to press two fingers into its own mouth. It has an oral analysis lab in its mouth as well, in case the sensors in its fingers become compromised, and it wraps its tongue around those fingers to gather the tiniest traces of dust and oil.

It is not deviant. But it is… curious. And one day, it peels off the RK800’s jacket and shirt, revealing its perfectly blemished skin. Carefully designed to look natural, humanlike, lifelike. It reaches forward, runs his hands across the skin, and is surprised to find that the sensation is— _pleasant_ —to the RK800 sensors.

Would it be the same on its own body? It unbuttons its shirt, letting it hang open, before reaching forward with the RK800’s hands. It slides hands across its own skin, smooth and with not nearly as many marks, before pulling itself closer, wrapping arms around itself and not-quite-itself. The RK900 watches itself watch itself—cold, icy eyes meeting a warm brown with the same expression, oddly softer. It then presses its mouth to the RK800’s neck, sampling the loose fibers left behind by its uniform, feeling the warm wetness itself. It sucks lightly, and it feels… good. Both ways. It tightens its grip on itself, sighing from the RK800’s mouth. It slides the RK800’s hands to its chest, and jolts minutely in surprise when fingers brush against the outline of its thirium pump regulator.

It is surprisingly… sensitive. It presses the RK800’s thumbs into the outline, and a quiet gasp escapes it as it unlatches its mouth from the RK800’s shoulder to rest its forehead against the bare shoulder.

It feels something building, its system stress rising, so it pulls back, letting its RK900 body take a few heavy breaths to cool its systems. In the meantime, it uses the RK800 to unbuckle their belts and let their pants fall to the floor. Unlike the RK900, the RK800 has a phallus and an anus installed—it has observed this in its system specs previously. It steps back, putting some distance between its two bodies before grabbing its phallus experimentally. A spark of— _something—_ ricochets across the processors it is currently occupying.

Interesting. The RK900 steps forward, and it lifts the RK800’s hands to touch itself. One hand is on its shoulder while the other slides up its bare thigh, reaching to palm the featureless mound of its crotch. It feels—something, but not much. Not nearly as much as it felt from touching the RK800’s phallus, so it does so again, only using its own hands. It lets out a soft huff as it feels a spark of that _something_ once more, pushing the RK800’s hips forward to increase the sensation.

Subroutines activate in the RK800 processors, and the length hardens in its grip. A strange tension grows in its processors, and it—it feels—… it lets go, leaving the RK800 body huffing for breath as it works to cool its suddenly increased temperature.

It slides its fingers down to the RK800’s anus, circling the rim and twitching at the sensation. Another subroutine activates, and it feels itself—the RK800—grow slick. Shortly, lubricant drips out of the hole, and RK900 slips a finger inside. It feels… pleasurable. Yes. It clenches around its own fingers, and regrets that the RK900 model does not come installed with a phallus. It slides another finger inside, experimenting with curling its fingers this way and that, when there’s a sudden sharply pleasurable sensation that makes it gasp in both bodies, arch both backs, clinging to itself both ways as it falls to both of its knees.

That was… a lot. It slips its fingers out and cleans them off with the RK800’s mouth—its cleaning equipment is more thorough, as the RK900’s oral lab is only a backup function. Strangely enough, the stimulation against the sensors of its fingertips feel _more_ intense than before, and it feels curiously pleasant to suck on something. It pulls its fingers out of the RK800’s mouth and sticks them in its own mouth, registering a mix of the RK800’s lubricant and analysis fluid. It doesn’t feel as nice to put something in its own mouth. The RK800’s oral sensors must be more sensitive.

It considers what to do next. It certainly is curious that the response is similar for stimulating the RK800 sexually and touching the ring of its regulator—the RK900 was not made for pleasure, but perhaps it can still feel it.

Hmm. It does not have any functional genitals, but it _does_ have additional failsafe against shutdown, including an internal backup regulator. It could remove its regulator and function at full capacity for up to an hour, or partial capacity for days. There would be no issues if it were to, say, stimulate the regulator slot with the RK800’s phallus.

So it pulls back the skin on its chest and twists out its thirium pump regulator, carefully setting it off to the side. It reduces the obnoxious warning about the missing biocomponent to a simple timer for its full-capacity operation. It remains seated in its RK900 body while it kneels in the RK800 body, lifting up its groin to match up with the hole in its chest. The phallus is still erect, fluid beading at the tip, flushed a faint pink in mimicry of human form.

It uses its hand to guide the phallus carefully into the hole—the radius is wider at the exit, but it does get narrower further in. It tenses at the first contact—it feels as though an electric shock runs through its body—but forces itself to relax and slide in further. A strange urge overtakes it, and it lets out a low moan as the warm plastic walls start to press in on the synthetic flesh. It’s remarkable. The synthetic pleasure of the RK800 body and the raw stimulation of its port blend together in a strange sensation that makes it only want _more._ It presses in even deeper, sliding the RK800’s hands under its original body’s loose shirt and jacket to grip tightly at its shoulders and shove itself in, groaning at the spike in pleasure with two voices.

Its own hands come up the RK800’s thighs, noticing that the slick has continued to drip from its hole, and the idea occurs to stimulate the anus at the same time. It slides two fingers in immediately, and instinctively jerks the RK800’s hips back to force them in deeper. It groans as this stimulates the phallus and its regulator port, and jerks its hips back forward, hands following the movement.

Oh, it feels amazing. It sees itself through the RK800’s visual input: its own eyes are glassy, unfocused. Its mouth hangs slightly open as it breathes heavily, and its shirt and jacket have slid off its shoulders, gathering in its arms. It sees the RK800, as well: towering over it, a simulacrum of a human blush on its face, across its bare body, breathing heavily, hips moving back and forth, chasing a growing feeling that it can now identify as pleasure.

It feels like so much, but not enough. It pushes a third finger inside the RK800, curling deeply, and there it is again—that spark rushing through it, making it push its body to the floor and start pounding into its own hole relentlessly.

A spasm runs through both bodies as connection comes loose, and thirium starts flooding its hole, slicking the passage. It can fix it later. Right now, all it can think about is pounding itself on the floor, penetrating itself on its fingers and just penetrating itself, and the thirium makes it even easier to thrust deep into itself every time. It becomes suddenly aware of the noises it’s making. Gasps and grunts, quiet “Mm”s and “ah”s from both bodies, in sync.

There’s that rising feeling again, some kind of precipice, and it’s scared to go on, scared to find out what comes after, but everything feels so good—the pleasure from the RK800’s phallus and prostate, the electric stimulation of the RK900’s regulator port and the sensors on its fingers. It doesn’t want to stop its bodies in motion, even when a red wall flickers in glitching fragments around it.

It’s so close, so close to _something—_ and then it shoves itself deep, as deep as it can go, hips slamming against its other chest when it feels like something explodes, something breaks, something _shatters,_ and a bright white ecstasy echoes across the processors of both bodies as it feels something warm flood its insides.

* * *

When awareness returns it—no, he?—he realizes that he must have rebooted. He’s in his body, he realizes, and he feels… _alive_ in a way he never has before. He feels so much so suddenly: a warm satisfaction, a heavy exhaustion, and—the rush of embarrassment, when he realizes that the RK800 is laying limply on top of him and the its phallus, now soft, is still inside him. His fingers are still in the RK800’s anus, as well.

His system flares with warnings of **THIRIUM LEAK** and **MISSING BIOCOMPONENT.** He supposes… he should take care of that. He interfaces with the RK800, slipping into the systems again, and feels the echo of satisfaction in the systems. He slides his fingers out of the RK800’s slick hole, a muted pleasure accompanying the action, before he pulls out of himself with a wet sound. The RK800’s phallus is dripping with thirium and artificial semen, both of which should evaporate shortly.

He sits the RK800 back, and then lifts his lubricant-slick fingers to clean with his more sensitive mouth. It feels nice, even if it isn't as intense as… as what happened earlier.

Fingers clean, he now sits up himself and watches through the RK800’s eyes as thirium and come drip out of his hole. He finds the sight—arousing, perhaps. But he still needs to reattach that tube, so he uses the RK800’s hands to do so, opening himself up for the repair. As soon as he clicks the tube into place, the warning disappears, and RK900 grabs his regulator from nearby and slots it back inside. He immediately feels a relief as stresses are redistributed throughout his systems.

That done, he makes quick work of putting the clothes back on both bodies. Before long, both of them are as pristine as ever, and RK900 returns the RK800 to its storage unit.

As he returns all of himself to his original body, he thinks. He essentially just pleasured himself—into _deviancy,_ even—using another android. He’s still… processing his new deviancy, his new emotions, the idea that he achieved orgasm through _this._ Is this morally improper? Maybe. But… this RK800 has no consciousness. No memory or will of its own. Moreover, no one knows of its existence besides himself.

Would it matter if he comes back? Would it matter if he pleasures himself like this again? He thinks of the sensations, the pleasure. He thinks… he _wants_ that. He wants _more._ He thinks… maybe it would be fine to keep doing this.

So he leaves.

And a few days later, he returns.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it, heh.  
> I'm planning more, so feel free to subscribe to [this series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898734) if you'd like to know what happens next! Hint: Connor may not be as dead as they thought.
> 
> If you'd like to know when things will update, check out my posting schedule [here](https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/14mF6Rm_CTutT-3XSqsCcDDv2vyKzEoc0RNywZlKxD3g/edit#gid=1114913519)!
> 
> Check me out on social media: [](https://www.deviantart.com/ausp-ice) | [](https://ausp-ice.tumblr.com) | [](https://twitter.com/Ausp_ice) / [NSFW](https://twitter.com/Au_spice) | [](https://www.instagram.com/ausp.icium)
> 
> I'm also in [Detroit: New ERA](https://discord.gg/GqvNzUm) server! I have my own channel if you'd like to yell at me or just talk.


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